The Queen's Opal: A Stone Bearers Novel (Book One)

by Jacque Stevens

  Shapeless spirits? Rangers prided themselves on defending the forest covertly, but that was absurd.

  “Tayvin, you may have to show her.” Cindle eyed Tayvin’s hood.

  He had to leave it on while on the street—which was why they had to come inside for this discussion—but he shook his head. If Nami still didn’t believe them, there was no reason to rush it. He needed to slow down, make better decisions, and he would.

  “Can I ask you something first? Among your people, are you a master?” Cindle had said they would need a master. If Tayvin was going to temporarily stop searching for Drynn to stay here, he needed to be sure he would learn what he came for.

  “On paper, yes, though it is not enough for some people,” Nami said. “The guild doesn’t usually accept female masters, I was a special case. Most people would prefer a male unless they are dealing with woman issues or looking for a handout.”

  Tayvin paused as he tried to phrase his next question. He wanted to address a subject elves had little words for, and if the dorrans did, he didn’t know them. He could have asked Cindle, but this was his task and he was now determined to do it himself. “Have you ever treated a widespread illness? One that one person after another catches, that results in death?”

  Nami frowned. “An epidemic? Your people are under plague?”

  “I’m unfamiliar with those terms, but members of my family have contracted a sickness resulting in death. We have no healers and are unsure of the exact cause.”

  “No healers? Why not?”

  “There was no need for them before this.” Elves got hurt, and then they got better. No one died until they were old and journeyed back to Falberain. That was how it was supposed to work.

  “I would have to know their symptoms to be sure, but I should be able to do something. I’ll find someone to watch the children and go with you right away.” She stood.

  Tayvin smiled as her words had taken on a familiar ring. He could learn to like this human. “I appreciate the offer, but my people will not accept you.”

  “Why? Because I’m a woman?” Her arm bent, hand on her hip.

  “Because you’re human.” Why couldn’t a woman be a healer if she wanted? Must be another human thing. “I know you don’t believe me, but I am an elf and I will show you. I just need your word that you won’t repeat it to anyone, even your kin.”

  Nami sat back down. “Of course not.”

  Tayvin pulled off his hood, but he winced when her eyes widened, absorbing this new feature. Tayvin rarely felt self-conscious about his appearance, but he certainly felt it now.

  “You’re an elf,” the woman finally said.

  “Yes.” Tayvin replaced his hood, relieved that the inspection was over. “And I need your help. Teach me to help my people, and I will find a way to help you in return.”

  Nami shook her head. “If you don’t know what this illness is, I can’t just tell you to do one thing or another—you would have to learn to think like a healer, become one yourself. That takes years, you know. By then, it may be too late. And who knows if our methods will work on elves?”

  “I know all this, but this illness seems to take a few years to fully take hold and our histories say that we learned healing from the humans before. At the very least it will be faster and have a better chance of working than doing nothing, which is what some at home would have us do.” He couldn’t go home and do nothing, no matter how long it took. And a few years, what was that among the hundreds Drynn should live if they cured him? The hundreds all elves should live?

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, I can give you a try, but you must understand, not everyone has the aptitude for this kind of work. It takes a lot of motivation and skill.”

  Tayvin nodded back, though it took several minutes for any words besides yes to register. It was the result he had wished for, but now he could scarcely believe it had happened. This was the only thing he could do to help Drynn, so he would make it work. “I have the motivation. We won’t know about skill until we try.”

  “True enough, but the neighbors will have questions. What should I tell them?”

  “The truth,” Cindle said. Tayvin would have normally been at least slightly annoyed that she was taking over, but nothing could ruin his mood right now. “His name is Tayvin and he came from the east. He asked to be your apprentice and you agreed. What else will they need to know?”

  Nami shrugged. “Nothing, except they might wonder why you chose me. And the guild will likely want to be informed too. Some might ask to talk to you.” She turned back to Tayvin. “You don’t speak much Kalmic, do you?”

  Tayvin frowned, turning back to Cindle. “What’s Kalmic?”

  She sighed. “It’s Human. Or at least, their version of it. Not all the humans speak the same language, not since the old religion died out.”

  Tayvin hated the looks Cindle and Nami were giving him—one in irritation, the other in wonder. So he had asked another stupid question, but how was he supposed to know that they called their language something other than Human?

  “I know a little,” he said as Nami still waited for a response. “It needs work.”

  Tayvin expected her to sigh and shake her head like Cindle but she smiled quite pleasantly. Humans might be easier to deal with than dorrans. Some humans, anyway.

  “I guess I’ll be teaching you that, too.” She stood back up as a pot boiled over in the background. “Well, are you ready to work? It’s too bad you weren’t here last month. I could have used your help with the planting. But I have had these potted plants growing all winter that still need to be harvested. I have to finish brewing these for the healing drinks before I do any real teaching, but it would be good practice for you if you would help me.” She pointed toward the herbs, pantomiming her words.

  Tayvin nodded, eager to get moving again.

  Nami turned to Cindle. “And what would you like to be doing?”

  “Cindle has to go,” Tayvin answered, the reminder settling heavy on his chest. Cindle had to find Drynn or nothing else here mattered.

  Nami frowned at his change in tone, straying to the back door. “Well, I’ll let you settle that. Stir a few things if they look like they need it.” She went to the garden after her children.

  Cindle stood up, already straightening her pack. “I think it’s safe to say that she’s smitten. You’re lucky you’re pretty, and she has strong maternal instincts. She’ll keep you out of trouble better than I could.”

  “Where will you go first?” Tayvin asked.

  “To Kalum City, the capital. More dorrans will be there, and it has the biggest network for the kind of information I’ll need.”

  Tayvin nodded, standing after her. At least, someone would be looking. “I might have to apologize to you too. I didn’t trust you when this first started. I didn’t much care for dorrans and I couldn’t imagine you wanting to help us without another motive. I’m sorry.”

  Cindle glared. Somehow he had insulted her again. “You shouldn’t apologize to me. Maybe when Drynn is back, but not now.” She sighed as she headed for the front door. “Good luck with your training. When I come back I’ll expect you to speak Kalmic, have all those down,” she pointed to the books and herbs, “and still have your head on your shoulders.”

  Tayvin tried to smile as she left, but dread swept over him as suddenly as the door closed.

  He had been so focused on getting to the healer and getting Cindle off to help Drynn that he hadn’t thought about what it would mean to stay here alone.

  He had been impulsive again when he had thought he was being smart, letting someone else make the plan. Now he felt just as lost as he had on the street.

  Wooden walls completely surrounded him. No breeze, all the outside noises muffled. So many books, so many herbs. He hadn’t wanted to panic Drynn with the details of his own illness before they found a healer, but once they had, he assumed Drynn would find the answer himself. Drynn was the scholar. Tayvin was just there to protect and hel
p him along. If their father had given the opal to make Drynn king and Tayvin stayed a ranger, he wouldn’t have minded.

  Sitting in a council meeting had never been all that fun.

  Sitting in a box with a stack of books had to be worse.

  He would have to do it anyway. Sitting was bad. Sitting without even trying to learn and prepare to help when Drynn returned would be unthinkable.

  Nami came back in, children trailing after her. “We’re going start to dinner soon, get a few more things settled. Usually, apprentices live with their masters, but I’m afraid if you live here, you’ll have to settle for a couch.”

  Tayvin forced his smile back, determined to make things work no matter how they had come to be. “How about a roof?”

  CHAPTER 14

  THE NEXT DREAM started where the other had ended. Saylee and her brother, Marryll, gathered around the opal. “It’s beautiful,” Saylee said, and Drynn had to agree. Its inner vortex whirled with every shade of green imaginable and glowed furiously in Saylee’s hands.

  “What does it mean?” Marryll asked over his sister’s shoulder.

  “It means the stone has finally selected a new bearer.” The dark-skinned bearer’s sandals appeared in Saylee’s peripheral vision. “That is the only thing that would make it shine like that. Bearers help to regulate and provide spiritual guidance for the magic used in all the nations. She will be the spokeswoman in our council for the Goddess Atriea, who helped to create this world, and have access to her powers as Lady Diana before her and many other lords and ladies.”

  There was a heavy silence as the man paused, maybe realizing he had gotten ahead of himself. “What is your name, lady?”

  Saylee didn’t answer. She seemed deaf to the world as she examined the opal. Seeing it in her hands seemed right to Drynn, like seeing it on his mother and being home again.

  “Her name is Starrillaylee,” Marryll said, “but how can she be the bearer? Atriea is a human goddess. They all are.” He gestured toward the other temples and statues outside.

  “So you do know of her,” the bearer replied. “But you are wrong, of course. Atriea is a goddess of this whole world, and she picks who she will.” He turned to Saylee. “Lady Starrillaylee? Will you permit me to send a message to the rest of the bearers? They must know at once.”

  “Hold on.” Marryll held up his hand. “Saylee’s only a little girl. You shouldn’t be rushing into things without our parents here. You haven’t even asked her if she wanted to be on some human council.”

  The bearer frowned. “What’s your name, young man?”

  “Marrylaculuss.” The name made sense after Drynn remembered their father had said that Marryll had been the first to be born. Marrylaculuss was Elven for miracle.

  “You know we couldn’t do anything without seeking consent, but I don’t think that is the issue here. You don’t trust humans, do you, Marrylaculuss?” The bearer stumbled over the name, but it was a good effort for a human.

  Marryll sneered at him, though. “I trust some humans,” he said as if admitting a fault.

  “I’m sure, but you do not trust the race in general. And you do not trust me.”

  “Should I?”

  The words hit Drynn hard. Before, the dreams seemed a marvelous escape. The historic queen reminded him of his mother at every turn with the stone on her neck and her confident joy brightening each of her interactions. It seemed a peaceful world like his home in the forest.

  Now he shared Marryll’s fear, that it would all be torn away by the same thing that destroyed Drynn’s former reality. Humans.

  The bearer, however, only looked amused. “It would certainly make you a happier person. Sure, there are individuals from all races who try to sour the whole bunch, but why give them the satisfaction?”

  Marryll’s mouth became a firm line, and the bearer sighed.

  “I swore to Lady Diana at her death that I would find and help her successor, whomever and whatever he or she might be, just as she did for me. She saved my life when I was young, and I have longed to find a way to return the favor. Trust that if nothing else.” The bearer turned back to Saylee. “Now, lady, do I have your permission?”

  Saylee finally looked up from the opal. “The stone is wonderful, Marryll. I want this.”

  Marryll’s face was still grim, but he nodded.

  Drynn wasn’t convinced. How could Saylee be so confident? The elven histories spoke more of her defeat of the drow as an adult, nothing of her childhood; what were the human interactions really like in her time?

  The bearer’s account of a woman saving his life sounded more like a dorran’s tale of more heroic, if strange, humans. Some of those stories had to be real, didn’t they? Had the humans helped Saylee to defeat the demons, or were they part of the problem from the first?

  Saylee’s voice called him back to the scene in front of him. “Lord Bearer,” she paused, “do we have to go by Lord or Lady Bearer all the time?”

  The bearer laughed. “It’s a nice formality to show reverence to the divine, but in social situations, you can choose whatever you would like for people to call you. At such times, you may call me Mouikki. And what would you like me to call you?”

  “Saylee,” she said. “Mouikki, you can tell everyone you want to.”

  Mouikki turned to an outer door, the noises of the humans outside growing stronger with each step. “The council’s leader, Bearer Laurel, isn’t here right now, but we can call for the dragonet at the castle—Vernack. The dragonets can speak to each other’s minds at a distance, which is the best way to spread news. And in the meantime, there is someone else you should meet.” Mouikki gestured down the short stairway.

  Saylee followed with Marryll to a part of the garden fenced off from the rest. Saylee fawned over the fiery red flowers, but Mouikki gestured for silence.

  As soon as Saylee quieted, he made a shrill whistle.

  “Keer Key!” something called back.

  A bird the size of a sparrow appeared from the brush. It seemed a mismatched, comical fellow with a dark red feather on the back of his head that stuck completely out of place. The rest of its feathers were a mesh of bright red, orange, and yellow. It circled Mouikki, as if daring someone to catch him.

  “Oh . . .” Saylee said.

  Marryll frowned. “What is it?”

  “The phoenix.” Mouikki stood with his hands behind his back. “You are familiar with the nature of the phoenix?”

  The elven children nodded. Everyone knew they were magical birds with the ability to regenerate from their ashes after death.

  “Most of it’s true. He follows the stone, much like the kirate follows my own.” Mouikki indicated the feathered snake, still draped around his shoulders. “Lady Diana called him Kerro.”

  Kerro had landed on Mouikki’s head and crawled about inspecting the small braids like a sparrow looking for an insect to eat. He chirped when Mouikki had said his name and flew over to Saylee.

  She held out a finger, and he landed, ducking his small head as if to bow.

  Mouikki chuckled. “No jokes from him now. You can tell he knows who you are. Lady Diana was the only one spared from his mischief when she was alive.”

  “He’s so cute!” Saylee’s voice went up an octave in excitement. The phoenix preened, basking in the attention. “Will he stay with me?” she asked.

  “Good luck stopping him,” Mouikki said. “Renewal is powerful, but not much for fighting. Kerro sees himself as the bearer’s protector.”

  So she did have a real protector. That was a relief. Perhaps Drynn’s visions would stay peaceful for a while longer, even if the humans were involved.

  “But that’s ridiculous,” Marryll said. The bird peeped indignantly. “Well, it is. He’s tiny.”

  “Keet!”

  Kerro rose from Saylee’s finger. As he flew, he grew larger. It happened so gradually and fluidly, that at first Drynn wondered if it was some kind of trick of the light or if the bird was simply puffin
g out its feathers, but there was no mistake.

  He was growing.

  He was huge.

  He grew until he was as tall as Saylee. Taller. His neck stretched until he resembled a discolored heron more than a sparrow. A very large heron. As he grew, the single misplaced feather on the back of his head became a crest, and the tips of his wings and outstretched tail burst into flame.

  “KEER! KEER!” He swooped after Marryll.

  Marryll cried out and rolled to one side before the bird could skewer him with his beak. The phoenix flapped his large wings, trying to regain his balance for another swoop.

  Marryll tensed as the bird turned.

  “Kerro, stop that right now.” Saylee swung her arm in a wide arc. “Marryll’s my brother, not a goblin. If you attack my friends, you will have to stay here.”

  Kerro’s head sank down, and he shrank. Before long he was sparrow-size again and no longer flaming. Marryll straightened up with a glare.

  Mouikki smiled. “Well done, Saylee. It has been far too long since we had a bearer to keep him in line. You sounded just like Lady Diana.”

  Marryll groaned. “What does it want now?” Kerro sat on Marryll’s shoulder, brushing his feathers against his face. Marryll held his head away.

  “I think he’s trying to make up with you,” Mouikki said.

  Marryll groaned again.

  Mouikki shook his head. “I wouldn’t be too hard on him. The worst I’ve seen him do when someone teased him about his size was chase them around the yard.”

  “Fine, I forgive you,” Marryll said, waving his arms to fend the bird off. “Now leave me alone.”

  The bird chirped in agreement and flew away.

  Drynn watched the phoenix fly in long idle circles back to Saylee. His image blurred. The temple, the bearer, and Marryll all disappeared in the strange green haze until only the figure of the phoenix remained.